40 Ball ft. Prettifun Lyrics

(This is real music)

(We love you Kenji)

Yeah, uh, Rick Owen on my feet, they just my beaters

Yeah, uh, she think that I'm rude, my pockets meaner

Yeah, uh, Latina mommy, she might be a beaner

I think she trying to set me up, I link up with my heater

Yeah, 40 ball, I drop that at the mall

I keep a stick, got a 40 clip, Stuffed in my drawls

Ringer going off

If it ain't music, I'ma just ignore the call

Prada my pants, 50 my Bands

I'm about to jump out the Lam

Tell her"Yes Ma'am"

Butt so big, how does it fit in her pants

How do I feel

Don't say a word

I'ma just do my little dance

She tell me I love her, I guess that's enough

I drop a band on her nails

This lil' girl's smart, but she popping an ex

I think she came out of Yale

Make her new boyfriend or ex

Hit him with astick like him castin' a spell

Choppa ball like curry

I'ma hit that boy from deep

Lil' girl laid up off dem' shrooms

No, she cannot speak

Yeah, lil' girl pretty

And she having fun

She loving me

I went up, Now, they say I'm fake, well, I guess I'm green

My bro greened out

He been cheifin' all the weed

My bro leaned out

Off the kickstand he gon' sleep

All of this money a drug

I guess I'm popping a bean

I'm doing well so young

I'm making bands as a teen

I'm making bands as a teen

200K in a week?, Just keep your eyes on me

Iso, nigga, I'm a demon

I got my ears on freeze

I ain't even tryna go beat it

Call up the hoe, For the?

Call up ya' bih, get her all on knees

She is a freak

She eat the dick, like she don't got teeth

Chewin' the meat

Nigga, wan' talk bout' Twitter beef, Do you wanna meet?

An my pocket, stuck with G's, Not talking about weed

Huh, Yeah, groupie gon' please

Huh, Yeah, I'm burnin' through money

Uh, Yeah, I'm shreddin' the cheese

Why are you laughin? Ain't shit funny with me

I don't got my pole, I'm dolo, Uh, Why you runnin' from me?

And This not my car, A stolo

Run from police

I get a Ft tho

Shout out to Chino

Yeah

Hey

Hey

Yeah, uh, Rick Owen on my feet, they just my beaters

Yeah, uh, she think that I'm rude, my pockets meaner

Yeah, uh, Latina mommy, she might be a beaner

I think she trying to set me up, I link up with my heater

Yeah, 40 ball, I drop that at the mall

I keep a stick, got a 40 clip, Stuffed in my drawls

Ringer going off

If it ain't music, I'ma just ignore the call

Prada my pants, 50 my Bands

I'm about to jump out the Lam

Tell her"Yes Ma'am"

Butt so big, how does it fit in her pants

How do I feel

Don't say a word

I'ma just do my little dance

She tell me I love her, I guess that's enough

I drop a band on her nails